


A God Among Men

by tamethespaghetti



Category: Cyborg 009
Genre: Card Games, Cyborgs being a family is all I need, Family, Jet with a little God Complex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 10:20:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15022499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamethespaghetti/pseuds/tamethespaghetti
Summary: Sometimes, from way up here, with only the clouds and stars to tell him differently, Jet felt like a god.





	A God Among Men

The night flew by at an astonishing speed. At first, he had been flying with purpose, keeping track of his own movements and monitoring where he was going, but eventually he had given up and instead he flew aimlessly around the night sky. 

A long time ago Jet had cursed the Black Ghost for tampering with his body without asking, yet over the years he had not only come to terms with it but embraced it. Maybe he was more prone to injury than the rest of the crew, and maybe he could never walk around quietly anymore because the jets inside his legs clicked with every step, but he definitely hadn’t drawn the short straw. He could fly. Even the all-powerful Joe Shimamura couldn’t fly. Jet alone had been gifted with that ability.

And he loved it. Nothing was more liberating that streaking across the sky at five times the speed of sound, uninhibited by the abilities of normal humanity. The wind against his face, cold and sharp, made him feel more alive that he had ever felt as a mere human, and the speed at which he sped past everything made him feel powerful. Here, miles above every other human being on the planet, he couldn’t help but feel like a higher existence. Sometimes, from way up here, with only the clouds and stars to tell him differently, Jet felt like a god. Unstoppable, unburdened, positively free. If this wasn’t what it was like to be a god, then it wouldn’t be worth it. 

He stopped for a moment to catch his breath and found himself directly above his starting point. The beautiful house on the edge of a cliff that housed nine cyborgs and a human. His home. It appeared that his unconscious mind would always bring him home. 

He hovered over their home and his family, where they resided dozens of miles beneath him. He couldn’t see them, he didn’t have Fran’s sight, but he knew they were down there, so small and insignificant despite their frightening power. 

He wondered what they were all doing now, now that they had this pocket of free time? Ivan would without a doubt still be asleep, but would someone be watching over him? Would it be Fran, holding him tightly against her chest in the way she would love to do to her own baby that one day she that could never had? Or maybe it would be Geronimo, who’s unspoken desire to stay by Ivan’s side and protect the sleeping infant was stronger than his artificially given physical strength. Or would be the doctor? And would he be looking down at the baby with love and adoration like a father would, or with distain at the forever-youthful face of Ivan when the doctor could feel his body breaking down quicker and quicker each day? Or would the infant-genius be left alone to dream in peace?

Jet’s mind wandered to Albert, like it often did. Had he finished tuning that old piano they had bought a couple days ago and was now filling the large sea-side house with the sad classic tunes that were the only pieces knew how to play? Jet had always hated classical music, but curiously not when it was Albert playing it. Or was Albert sitting alone in his room, mind still firmly fixed on the past? All alone up here, with only himself to chide him for silly thoughts, Jet allowed himself to hope that Albert was out on the balcony, looking up at the night sky and trying to catch a glimpse of the cyborg who was up there. 

Jet’s attention was drawn to the dark mass beside their house. The sea. From up here, it looked as black as the sky, and the reflection of the stars only strengthened its resemblance. Was it too late for Pyunma to be out for a swim? Probably, so would he instead be curled up on the couch with a book, using Geronimo’s huge, warm bulk as a backrest? Was GB being useless? Definitely. Fran had just re-hidden the key to the liquor cabinet, so was GB currently looking for it, or had he pestered Pyunma enough to get the other to open it for him? Maybe GB had caught Albert in one of his moods and they had gone to the liquor cabinet to drown away the past together.

Jet wasn’t jealous when GB and Albert drank together. He knew what alcohol could do, and he didn’t want to be part of that. 

What did Chang do in his free time? After all these years Jet didn’t really know. And now, high up here, that realization kind of hurt. How many times had they fought side-by-side and still Jet didn’t know what Chang’s hobbies were besides cooking. Jet was a shitty friend. 

Was Fran curled up beside Joe, the two of them fitting perfectly together in an easy silence with smiles on their faces and simply relishing each other’s mere presence? Again, Jet told himself that he wasn’t jealous, that he didn’t care that two of his equally altered comrades had found love and he hadn’t. 

And just like that, his mood had turned sour. He wasn’t up here to think about those beneath him. He was here to fly. He engaged his thrusters and sped away from their home as fast as he could and forced himself to focus on the wind cutting against the still-human skin of his face. It was cold, his non-cybernetic skin did little to keep him warm and he couldn’t tear his mind away from the desire to have someone hold him and keep him warm. He forced himself to fly faster even though he knew he couldn’t and changed his trajectory so that he flew directly upwards. Higher and higher he went until his cybernetic lungs begged him to not go any higher. 

He shut the thrusters off and only turned on the small jets he needed to maintain altitude. He hovered again, now higher and further from home, high enough that he was more within the vastness of space than part of Earth. High enough to be fully removed from the world beneath him. He was a god again, above it all.

He looked up at the expanse above him, stretching further than anyone would be able to perceive, even Fran with her senses. No matter how far up he went there would always be infinitely more above him, hiding within that inky black vastness. Was there someone up there looking down at him like he was looking down at the others? Looking down at him, marveling at his insignificance and proclaiming themselves a god before Jet? It was possible, and as Pyunma had said once, quite probable, but Jet didn’t know if he believed that. But if he, a good-for-nothing youth gifted the ability of flight and an enhanced existence, could contemplate the possibility of being the embodiment of a god, what was there to say that there wasn’t someone else with even more? Hidden amongst the stars, hidden at the corners of the infinite void so far away and grand that humans, cybernetically enhanced or not, couldn’t possibly fathom. 

It made him feel alone, so alone and small that it physically hurt. He panicked for a second, and suddenly Jet didn’t want to be here anymore. He wanted to be home. So, he aimed himself back towards the coordinates he would never forget and flew back as fast as he could, letting gravity speed up the process so much that he swore that he must be moving as fast, if not faster, that Joe could go. 

When Jet touched down he left a sizable dent in the front lawn and he knew that doctor would get angry at him for that, especially since this hadn’t been the first one this week. Not that it really mattered, no one was coming out here anytime soon, so the state of the front lawn wasn’t going to been seen by anyone outside of their family. 

When Jet stepped into the house he heard lively voices coming from the family room. He picked clumps of dirt and grass out from between the crevasses of his cybernetic feet before walking towards the voices of his family, his feet clicking against the hardwood floor with each step. 

The family room was lit with a warm and comforting light and smiling faces. They were all here, seated around the coffee table, playing cards in hand. The floating bassinet in which Ivan slept was just beside GB, who had been looking down at the sleeping baby’s form up until Jet had made his presence known with his loud footsteps. There wasn’t a glass of alcohol to be found, but the Brit looked strangely solemn. 

Joe and Fran sat beside each other on one of the couches, the only point of contact between the two of them was a small portion of their lateral thighs, and Joe seemed to be more focused on Jet right now than on Fran. 

“Hey Jet,” he said, a carefree smile on his face, “want to play Crazy-Eights?”

Jet shrugged, “Sure.”

Albert waved him over and scooted to the side so Jet could fit beside him on one of the couches. The outside of this thigh pressed up against Albert’s, but no comforting warmth came from the contact, just a constant pressure. Jet shrugged it off, he told himself he didn’t care. 

“Did you have a nice flight?” Albert asked quietly as Joe got to work redistributing the cards. The softness of the older man’s voice caught Jet off guard. 

“It was great,” Jet shrugged again as he picked up his cards. Not a bad hand, but not great either. He looked up from his hand and past Albert at the piano in the corner of the large family room, “did you finish tuning the piano?”

The corner of Albert’s lip pulled upwards, “nearly.”

The game commenced but Jet could barely focus. He absent-mindedly placed down a card whenever it was his turn, but he was too busy watching everyone else. Watching his mess of a family. More than once it was brought up that Fran was most likely cheating, but her cheery giggles stopped anyone from doing anything about it. Geronimo was helpless terrible at this game and Pyunma had to help him so much that it was actually pitiful. Pyunma had to eventually put down his cards and crawled into Geronimo’s lap and they played as a team. Albert’s cards were easily seen from where Jet was sitting, but he got the impression Albert didn’t care. Chang left periodically to bring more tea and snacks and checked on Ivan. He ended up sitting beside GB and almost instantly GB brightened up. Dr. Gilmore kept winning. 

If Jet were still up in the cloud he would have no idea that any of this was happening. Did a god have to be omniscient?

“Would you like me to play something once we’re done the game?” Albert asked delicately as the doctor won another game. The cards were reshuffled and redistributed. When Jet didn’t reply he added, “On the piano.”

Jet found himself shrugging again, as if he didn’t care. He bit his lip as he picked a card to play. Albert placed a card on top of his and the round continued. 

“Yah.” 

Albert smiled, and Jet realized that they were sitting much closer than he remembered. All thoughts of being a god slipping from Jet’s mind as he focused on the weight of Albert against him, anchoring him to the earth.


End file.
